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See the flowers in the distance
between the cold grey stones
facing the white mountain slopes
of chappel in the vally
Love, please close the door.
A cold wind moans
and chases the clouds
carrying along their snow
but you closed the door
Ther's a fire burning for us
to keep us warm and safe for tonight
Hear the sounds and melodies
of rilets flowing down
They're the verlasting songs
whispering all the time
as a warning that behind some rocks
there's a rigid grap even oreads fear the tread
